Tobacco Jam

My perception of Tobacco Jam underwent a dramatic shift since my first encounter with it, to how I feel about it now. It’s safe to say that I came for the raspberries and stayed for the tobacco. And like that, what started as a foray in the jar of jam ended up with what I now perceive, to quote the creator, as a ‘pull out all stops’ tobacco bomb. Admittedly, when I first heard about this fragrance, I was more curious about the raspberry accord and didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the composition. It was during a phase when I wanted to explore the raspberry note and find the most natural-smelling ones, and I knew that the independent perfumery realm was the best place to search, as the niche world left me dissatisfied. And indeed, as soon as I lay my nose on Tobacco Jam, I knew I had found one to quench that thirst. It wasn’t quite the fresh fruit, but not a “jam” either. To me, the fruit note in this smells like natural, homemade raspberry syrup, since the berry itself is not overly sweet. The accord here presents more sweetness and, to my palate, is rather akin to the concentrated syrup. Nevertheless, there is a good amount of tartness to offset it; therefore, I don’t think it goes in a fruit jam direction. Thoroughly satisfied, I cast the sample aside. Fast-forward, I returned to it. Perhaps the raspberry beckoned, or my nose pinned it down as “interesting/unique and worth exploring further.” This time, I didn’t return focused on one thing only, hence I was able to pull more out of it. Still, it didn’t strike me as a “tobacco bomb” but as a raspberry-flavored shisha scent that at the time offered more sweetness than I bargained for. It went that way for several more tries until my sample ran dry, and to my surprise, each time I returned to it, the tobacco unfolded more assertively, while the sweetness receded. It became drier, more leathery, woodier, and the fruity aspects fell into the background. My sample vanished, and I decided I enjoyed it enough to justify a full bottle. When the bottle arrived, and I sprayed it, it felt indeed like a ‘pull out all stops’ tobacco bomb. How did I get here? Did the fragrance change? Of course not! My perception of it did. At first, my attention was zoomed in on the raspberry accord, later on the sweetness, so much so that I was missing the bigger picture, or should I say, the perfume as a whole. It’s like going to the Louvre to see the rather bland and overhyped Gioconda and missing out all the other marvelous paintings (including Leonardo’s) that are far more exciting but didn’t have such a tumultuous and mediatized past. Now, when I spray Tobacco Jam, I am hit with a dry and quite rough tobacco note that soon begins to mellow. The raspberry joins in, the complementary facets and coumarin-like qualities of the hay absolute, while later in the base, the styrax displays a suede-like effect and a beautiful smoky nuance. The latter is greatly exploited with the help of Iso-E, a material that, for me, can either make or break a composition. Here, the former stands true. Iso-E, when used judiciously, can provide a beautiful, velvety, and expansive effect to the composition. I feel that it was used here to suspend the smokiness and create this effect of “fat smoke clouds” hanging in the air. I loop back to my initial parallel to shisha. It feels like being inside a hookah bar where you have to cut your way through the dense raspberry-flavored clouds. I also perceive a slight booziness in the opening that makes me think of an uncorked bottle of red wine. Overall, the tobacco note dominates, and many of the facets of the perfume are a result of the tobacco absolute used: the sweetness, the fruitiness, the dampness, and the leafiness. It really is a tobacco bomb, and plenty more - a beautiful, smoky, and fruity suede-like experience, a realistic rendition of raspberries pressed into syrup, and even offers, to some extent, a slightly rustic, almost agrestic feel due to the strong use of hay. It is highly diverse and unique, and I encourage people to be patient with it, as you might miss certain aspects at first, causing a complete 360-degree spin on it, the way it happened to me. IG:@memory.of.scents

On the Slow Combustion of Tobacco Jam There is a class of fragrance that behaves like a buried city: nothing visible from the surface road, everything legible only to the one who digs. Tobacco Jam belongs to this class. It does not announce itself in the manner of cheaper perfumery — that vulgar fireworks-display of top notes meant to dazzle in the boutique and die by lunch. It smolders, Pompeii-still beneath its own ash, Çatalhöyük-patient under centuries of accumulated floor. It makes Schliemann of the wearer, demanding excavation before it will yield its Troy — and like Schliemann, the wearer who digs too fast for gold will misname the layer and miss the city entirely. The fruit, on first contact, seduces with the false promise of simplicity — a sweetness recalling the votive offerings left at Delphic shrines, honeyed and faintly fermented, closer to the wine poured for the Pythia than to any nursery preserve. One is tempted, as Narcissus was tempted at his pool, to mistake the surface for the substance — or, in the Platonic register, to mistake the shadow thrown on the cave wall for the form casting it. This is the perfume's first deception, and its kindest one. Augustine confessed to loving the created thing before the source; the nose makes the same confession here, and is forgiven the same way. Beneath that reflection lies the true architecture: a tobacco leaf cured not for pleasure but for ritual, dry as the scrolls said to have perished at Alexandria, bitter as the hemlock Socrates drank in that final dialogue Plato gave us, calm and unhurried as a man arguing his soul was already elsewhere. It does not rush. It unfolds the way a fugue unfolds — Bach building cathedral from a single insistent line — or the way Borges' Library of Babel unfolds: every wearing a different room, the same total structure, infinite without ever repeating a shelf. The hay note arrives like late light through a clerestory at Chartres: thin, gold, faintly narcotic, the smell of threshing floors and the patience of harvest — Ecclesiastes' season for everything, rendered olfactory. The styrax styrax — calls to mind the tanning quarters of old Fez and Marrakesh, where hide is cured in stone vats the colour of dusk until it holds the memory of smoke for a hundred years, the way the Bedouin tents of Petra still seem to hold the memory of incense routes long since rerouted by empire. Over this whole structure floats Iso-E Super, a material I have always thought of as the perfumer's sfumato. Oh, did i mention Wittgenstein's famous insistence that the limits of language are the limits of one's world? Here, the limit of the nose is the limit of what can be named, and the perfume sits patiently just past that limit, daring articulation. What strikes me most is how thoroughly the composition rebukes the empiricist in me — the cataloguing impulse, Linnaeus-fashion, that wanted to pin the thing to a board on first contact and move on. Tobacco Jam refuses taxonomy the way Heraclitus refused stasis. It is closer to a palimpsest, that medieval vellum scraped at scriptoria like Lindisfarne and reused until three centuries of text lie ghosted beneath the visible one — scratch the raspberry away and tobacco was always the older manuscript underneath, the ur-text Borges would have called the original of which all later sweetness is mere translation, and every translation, as he warned, a slight betrayal. I am reminded, finally, of the river Heraclitus never let anyone step into twice: the perfume is static, fixed in its formula like a fly in amber from the Baltic shore, and yet the wearer who returns to it is never the wearer who left. The fragrance does not change. We do — incrementally, the way Theseus's ship is rebuilt plank by plank until the philosopher asks whether anything original remains, and the perfumer, wiser than the philosopher, answers: it does not matter, so long as it still sails. And so the true subject of this review was never quite the fragrance — it was the slow, humbling discipline of learning to read something correctly, which is to say: more than once, and never quite the same way twice.

Picture a powerful woman in a large wood paneled and leather office. Feet up on the desk - the soles of her shoes are red of course - smoking a large hand rolled cuban cigar. Smoke curling up along with the pungent smell of fresh slightly moist tobacco, slightly sweaty from the thighs of the cuban women who roll them day after day in the heat. On the desk, just in front of her, stands a large mason jar filled with chunky, fruity red jam - some currants and raspberries for a balance of sweet and tart, and between puffs, she lifts a finger full of jam to her lips which by now are covered in a gooey delicious mess. The jam lasts longer than the cigar, but the tobacco and earthy scent of it lingers. This is sexy, unisex, and needs to be tried to be understood. It's dense, rich, and lasts a long time. Try it on, close your eyes and wait for the vision. I purchased my sample and the contents and opinions are mine.

First smell and I know this one is really worth the meaning of “niche” Open with rasberry, a bit sweet but immediately comes the dry of tobacco and hay, blended excellently. Somehow, the balance is unique, not too dry, yet not so sweet. After a few hours, the smell fading a bit, leaving it down a tone, more relaxing. I may get addicted to this. Definitely not a crown pleasure, but truly niche. You should try a vial before getting a full bottle. I don’t recommend blind buying this, but once you like it, it’s addicting

This smells like delicious raspberry shortcake cookies (Jammy Dodgers in the UK) where the combination of sweet tobacco, woods and dry hay result in the perception of an edible baked biscuit note that sandwiches a layer of thick, sticky raspberries. The biscuits have a swirling, steaming, fresh-out-of-the-oven quality from the tobacco smoke which creates a juxtaposition between a cosy, airy sillage cloud and a weighty, dense jam. Because of this, the perfume never gets too cloying or suffocating.

I can’t get enough of this scent. On me it opens jammy for a moment, then gets a whole lot louder with tobacco and smoke. Then it softens again and I get the delicious raspberry jam, the hay and subtle leather and smoke undertones. It’s so so good, and just never gets boring. If that’s not enough it lasts 12+ hrs, lots of time to savour! I can’t wait to try more from this house.

tobacco jam - dense hay/ tobacco combo reminiscent of fresh pouch/ pipe tobacco with a absolutely beautiful effervescent sickly sweet raspberry sherbet note that brightens the fragrance. The hay/ raspberry combo makes this perfume really stand out and keeps it from becoming to dark and dense like some tobaccos tend to do.

i love this fragrance, it starts off with a dry hay and tobacco (i don't usually like dry scents) but this is so good and then the real magic happens when the fruity jam kicks in, a very unique scent and one i highly recommend, if you like very dark scents then give it a go, i can't wait to try more from this brand

Tobacco Jam Criminal Elements 10/10 Amazing perfume and easily one of my top three of all time. The jam note is rich and sweet without becoming cloying, blending beautifully with the dark, warm tobacco. It smells luxurious and regal. If a sovereign wore a fragrance, this would be the one. Highly recommend.

The name is so apt - this really does smell like raspberry jam mixed with some tobacco/hay concoction. Two things that I wouldn't have thought would go together, but he's done a good job making it work. Not amazing, but I really appreciate it as something different for winter.

It's a divine, creamy berry scent. Tobacco is sweet and round here. Raspberry is fresh and juicy. The perfumer is a genius! Don't be put off by the color of the liquid; it's not heavy at all.

mùi thuốc lá với mứt dâu cực ngon, lên da nam mùi tobacco lên trội hơn, masculine hơn, còn lên da nữ lại rõ mùi mứt dâu cảm giác giống trà dâu Dilmah. Nch là ngon cho 8/10.

This smells exactly like what it says on the box. It smells like tobacco from the pouch and sweet raspberry jam with dry complexity from the hay and suede. A great scent for sitting by the fire in winter. Definitely leans masculine, but could be unisex for the right person. It's a comforting scent to my nose.

Great take on a tobacco dominant perfume. I must say, I have never smelt anything like this in perfumery. The opening is a pouch-fresh, pipe-tobacco dominant with a candied raspberry twist which sweetens the scent profile a lot. I'd compare it to opening a fresh pack of non-lit cigarettes; nostalgic, as I used to sneak a smell of my mum's packets as a child. Here, it's richer, more jammy and creamy." The jamminess teeters on the edge of cloying but gets reined back in by the balsamic and grassy accords coming from the styrax and hay I'd assume. It's a rustic, luxurious fragrance that feels regal, which is quickly becoming a theme of this brand. If you are fond of tobacco scents, and something truly unique and opulent, you will find this unforgettable. While it isn't something I'd wear often due to the opening sweetness being a little cloying, I applaud it as one of the most original takes on tobacco I've ever smelled. Performance wise, I got about 6 hours from one spray of a small atomiser, which I'd definitely call a pass mark. ~ An older scholar in his archaic study at dusk; sunlight slanting through windows that bounce off a half-finished glass of port on the table, tinting the stale air with a strange complexity. As the gentleman lights his pipe, a freshly-baked raspberry strudel is taken out the oven by his wife, providing a layer of charm and mischief to the atmosphere.

This is lovely stuff! The ripe jam is there from the beginning without ever being cloying because a delicious hay accord keeps it savoury. There’s a hint of smoke and a nice hint of animalic quality that ties it together well. As far removed from the perfume industry as you could get. I am a teacher librarian and my wife walked in and said someone’s been vaping?! Can’t you smell that sweetness in the air. I said yes, it’s me! Well done Corey. Kudos to you. Packaging is brilliant too...

The first thing to hit my nose was strawberry jam! That only lasted a moment before the woodier elements came through - there's still a rich-sugar-fruity undercurrent to this, but the top of it is all hay / tobacco / woods (which slowly become more present as time goes on). Very "opaque" - this is in no way a transparent, minimalistic thing - but it doesn't suffocate either. The name is exactly it - what's listed is what you get.

As soon as you spray it, you will immediately feel the sweet and sour strawberry jam. but smell it directly, it is very smoky and dense, it feels dry but green. Let it be natural, the sweet and sour scent will radiate very beautifully, from time to time dry smoke but very beautiful. An hour later, the smoke fades, leaving a sweet and sour raspberry aftertaste. feeling really hungry.

I want to love Tobacco Jam but it has a thinness to it that holds me back. The dusty tobacco and hay opening is a bit too dry at first but once the raspberry kicks in, the sharpness pierces through and provides some balance. It just feels like there's something missing from it, some layer of depth needed. It's definitely interesting and very wearable, but also weirdly frustrating.

An absolute hidden gem! This is one of the best tobacco perfume out there that never gets boring. Literally smells like a beautiful jam made with tobacco! I can’t believe how underrated this is. A big love for me ❤️

Soooo unique, delicious, underrated (as is the house in general). You can smell the quality 💜